Superhuman
by CreativeSlash
Summary: After Reid joined the BAU, he discovered something rather extraordinary about himself, that remained a secret. However, when a case leads them to Odessa, Texas, Reid finds himself opening up to the southern blonde with a secret of her own. Written for CCOAC Crossover Challenge.


**And I'm back! Yes, sir, I have another Criminal Minds fic! :D This was For Chit Chat on Author's Corner's Crossover Challenge! It's my first crossover, so I'm a little on edge about it. But, enjoy!**

_1 year after Reid joined the BAU_

I looked down at my hands, staring down with a blank expression. I turned my hands over and over, looking for something. Anything. But, no. Nothing set me apart from any other person.

At least not physically.

I was seated at my desk in my study, doing research. Well, I was doing research. Now I've reached the point at staring at my hands, trying to find something that hinted to what I was. But, sadly, nothing stuck out.

I thought back to earlier today, as well as the past two weeks. Something had obviously been happening, but I couldn't think of anything that could explain why.

_2 weeks ago_

_BAU Office_

_God, why is it always so depressing here? You might as well spell out death on these walls._

_Delilah isn't here today. Damn, I was going to ask her out on her lunch break._

_How could anyone expect me to come to work after last night? I mean, that man could move his body in ways I didn't think were possible. The way he-_

"Reid!" Gideon's voice cut through the wave of voices in my head, effectively sending them to outer reams of my brain. Not disappearing completely, but drowning them out so that I could push them to the side for at least awhile.

I frowned up at him, wondering why he was so irritable. Sure, it was Monday. But, usually Gideon is better controlled.

"Yeah? What's wrong, Gideon?" I asked him, still hearing a murmur of thoughts in the background.

He looked down at me, suspicion clear in his eyes. "I said your name five times in the past minute. What are you thinking about that is making you like this? Usually you already have the answer to my question before I can even get it out."

I shook my head, giving him a small smile. "Nothing really important. Just your usual statistics and research. Speaking of which, did you know that this year they're finally doing the World Statistics book? It will range from statistics of how many cows are chosen to become slaughtered, to how many people in the world are geniuses and or who will be born a genius. It truly is quite interesting, if you look at it from this point-"

At this point, Gideon held his hand up, halting me before I could go into full blown rant mode. "Okay, Reid. I just wanted to know what's bugging you, not-"

"What the statistics for how many people turn into sociopaths?" I asked, smirking. In all honestly, I had heard the question in the back of my mind, sounding much too like Gideon, in my opinion. I know I'm probably going crazy, but to assign voices and tones to the thoughts is just too much. But I guess when I finally go into full schizophrenia and I have to be institutionalized, I suppose I would want company in my head, with my closest friends and family as their voices. I can just imagine, me sitting by the window at my mental institution, with a book in my hand, listening to Morgan teasing me or Hotch lecturing me. I turned my attention back to Gideon, trying to get a good read on his emotions, or whether or not he believed me or not.

Gideon was silent for a few seconds, just staring at me. I could see just by his eyes, that he was going into profiler mode. His eyes scanned over my face, time and time again, just drinking everything in. His eyes roamed over my eyes for the most part, seeing if I would blink, or if my pupils would dilate, or any other signs that I was lying. I stared evenly back at him, counting seconds in between blinks and breaths. Without the distraction of Gideon talking, I heard the voices creep back into my mind.

_How in God's name did he figure that out?_

I shifted slightly in my chair, turning my eyes away from his penetrating stare. I know he's knows I'm hiding something from him. But, I can't take telling him about any of this yet. He's the one who managed to get me into the BAU so quickly. He bent the rules just so I could join and help his team. If I told him this now, he would be so disappointed. I didn't want all of his work to get me in the FBI, to go to waste because I went crazy.

"Yes," Gideon spoke a couple of moments later, breaking me out of my thoughts. His voice was suspicious again. "That was exactly what I was thinking."

I blanched. I'm not sure how I guessed what Gideon was thinking, but the statistics weren't on my side for a sheer coincidence. The odds that I guessed the exact question Gideon was thinking, considering the category of the question, was next to impossible. I suppose I could always tell him the voices in my head told me, but I don't think that would go very well.

I gave him a sheepish smile, shrugging my shoulders. "I suppose I know you better than you thought."

He narrowed his eyes, and the suspicion was still there. "Yes, I suppose you do."

I didn't think anything of that day. Other than I had guessed Gideon's exact thought without a pause. The only thing that concerned me, was that the voice in my head was the one who had guessed it correctly. Maybe going crazy was sharpening my ability to read people. It was highly unlikely, but it was all I had to run on.

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_1 week ago_

_Denver, Colorado_

_Creak!_

I winced inwardly, trying but failing to make my steps lighter. The house's wooden floors were squeaking and creaking underneath mine and Morgan's footsteps as we searched every nook and cranny in the house, looking for the victim and the Unsub. But if the Unsub was hiding with our victim somewhere in the house, we didn't have the element of surprise on our side anymore. We lost it when we first set foot on the creaky floor.

So far, we went over the whole house. Every room, every bed, even every cabinet. There was absolutely no sign of either Katie Williams or Adam Hemsworth. In fact, it looked as if no one has inhabited this house for at least six years. But, we knew better. They were in this house, but we just weren't looking hard enough.

"Damn it!" Morgan growled from right beside me, punching his right fist into the mahogany door frame, making a considerable sized dent. The wood groaned under his fist, but otherwise stayed put.

"She has to be here! We've searched every possible place in this stupid house! They've got to be here!" Morgan seethed next to me, walking away to check every space he already checked. I stood there, thinking. There has to some space in this house that we're missing. We just haven't considered or even thought outside of the box.

_Oh, God. Please…..Please be help. Please!_

My head shot up, searching the room once again. I mentally slapped myself on the forehead. Even after all this time, I still think the voices are actually real.

_I wish I could scream, but this stupid gag on my mouth is too tight. Please, God, let them come by the cupboard under the basement. Just, please, don't let them leave me here to die.._

Before I could even question myself or the voice in my head, I darted off to the basement, leaving Morgan to wonder. I didn't know if the voices were just in my head to stay there, but it was something I could have missed before, and my subconscious is picking up to remind me. Or, my insanity is at it's peak. Probably the latter, with my luck.

I flicked the light on to the basement, doing a quick sweep over of the room under the dim, flickering light of the light bulb that seemed to be on its last leg. Nothing seemed to be out of place, or, more out of place then from the first time. But, the voice said a cupboard under the basement.

_So the door would lead down, _I thought to myself, walking around, looking down at the floor for anything that could resemble a door. So far, nothing was lookin-

_There!_

In the corner of the room, contrary to the rest of the basement floor, this part of the room was cold, grey stone, and had a wooden fireplace right on top of it. But, if you looked closely enough, the fireplace wasn't screwed in properly. All you had to was nudge the screw out of the socket, and lift the fireplace ever so lightly.

When the fireplace came up with no argument, it revealed a pale, shaking girl with sandy blonde hair and a gag in her mouth.

"I've got her!" I yelled upstairs, alerting my teammates. I untied her hands and helped her out of the cupboard, only to get tackled by her shaking, sobbing form.

Morgan was the first one to come down, helping her off of me and taking the gag out of her mouth. She was shaking and sobbing, but she was alive. Morgan shot me a look that said 'How the hell did you find her?' I smiled and shook my head, turning to make sure Katie was unscathed. I felt her tackle me again, this time, with her arms around my neck.

"Thank you so much," She sobbed into my shoulder, gripping me tighter. I awkwardly hugged her back, but couldn't help feel a warm feeling in my stomach. The voices, they were right. They helped me find her. We hadn't lost another victim, and I couldn't have been happier to say that.

At this point, I started to get a small tugging in the back of my brain, telling me something else is wrong. That these just weren't voices in my head. There was a reason behind them. But, I couldn't look past schizophrenia. That's the only explanation at this point.

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_Yesterday_

_Harrisburg, Pennsylvania_

"Look, man. Don't kill her. It'll only end up with her dead, and you in jail for the rest of your life. Trust me, it's not worth it," Morgan reasoned beside me, his gun trained on Mason Garfield's head.

Mason Garfield, has been on a murder streak for three weeks now, and has the blood of eighteen women on his hands. His profile is very, very weak. Somehow he managed to stay off every radar, and his personal life is non-existent. The purpose of profiling is to discover the purpose of why the criminal is murdering people and figure out who they'll strike next.

But, with Mason Garfield, there was nothing to set him off. According to his life, nothing had happened to set him off. No deaths. No abuse. Nothing.

_Oh, Megan, if only you hadn't died…None of this would be happening…_

Ah, the voices. I was wondering when they would arrive.

I didn't know who Megan was. The profile said nothing about a Megan, or even another person. But the voices haven't steered me wrong before. At least it's worth a shot.

"Mason, what would Megan think of this?" I asked, keeping my tone calm and controlled, finger resting on the trigger. If Mason didn't know a Megan, I could just barrel on without explanation.

However, if the voices were right, and Megan was a factor in Mason's life, we may have found our trigger.

I saw his eyes widen, and my finger tightened ever so slightly. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Morgan's did too.

_Who the hell is Megan? Kid, I wonder where you get these things._

I ignored the voice that sounded cryptically like Morgan, and continued to focus on Mason.

"Don't bring her into this!" He shouted, his voice sounding choked. If I was seeing correctly, his eyes were filling with tears.

_Whoever Megan was, he had a major emotional attachment to her._

"Would she be proud of all you've done? How many people you've killed?"

"She would've understood! She would've understood how much pain I'm in. She would understand.." He trailed off. He was desperate, and he knew it. He knew this was all coming to an end, but he needed one final push.

"No, Mason. She wouldn't be proud of you. She would be disappointed that you had to resort to this to get over your pain. She wouldn't forgive you if you were alive, so why make it worse? Let go of her, and make Megan proud of you. Make her see that you do have some control. Let Megan rest in peace, knowing you can stop this."

He had tears in his eyes now, and after a few minutes of thinking he let Amber Pepper go, and she ran over to Morgan, who led her out of the room. I walked over to Mason, who was on his knees sobbing hysterically, saying how much he's sorry. I felt a pang inside of me for the man in front of me. I was looking at a murderer, but I was also looking at a man who lost someone who obviously had a close relationship with. I knelt down behind him, taking his hands into the handcuffs. I pulled him up to his feet, balancing him on my arms to help him stay standing.

"Don't worry, Mason," I said quietly. "Megan is so proud of you. She wants you to know, that she misses you and is so proud of you for stopping yourself before you took someone else's life."

He didn't seem to hear me, but I noticed his sobbing had decreased substantially.

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I tapped my pencil on my notepad irritably, tempted to break the thing in half and call it a day. There was nothing that explained voices in the mind, other than various mental illnesses. I considered the possibility of having a mental illness, but I didn't display any of the other symptoms that were typically associated with the illness.

"God damn it!" I yelled, slamming my notepad down on my desk. "There's nothing for freaks like me, is there? I'm just the freak who hears voices in my head!"

I flopped back down in my desk chair, ready to quit right then and there. There was apparently nothing to explain just voices in your head. You must have a mental illness too.

I tried one last time, and just tried 'mind reading'. Of course, what pulled up on the majority of pages, were ads for psychics and gypsies, claiming to be able to read your future and show you your future spouse for a certain amount of money.

But, when I reached the sixteenth page of results, a page on evolved humans came up, and the author was stated as Mohinder Suresh, a genetics professor living in New York. A phone number was listed on the website.

I thought about for about six seconds, before I slowly picked up my cell phone, and dialed the number.

The call rang about three times, before somebody finally picked up.

"Mohinder Suresh."

"Mr. Suresh, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and I have a couple of questions about evolved humans if you don't mind…"

_Current Day_

_Odessa, Texas_

I may not have gotten the best scores on my physical part of my enrollment at the FBI Academy, but I can still run pretty quickly. Growing up as a child prodigy in Las Vegas proves useful sometimes.

But, Jerry Parker was really putting my running skills to the test. Morgan and I had been chasing him down eighth Boulevard for at least ten minutes, waiting for the back up to cut him off at the end of the street.

My breathing was labored, and my hair was hanging down in my face, but that didn't distract me from the surrounding thoughts around me from my teammate, or from the people surrounding us.

Including the blonde haired teenager standing right in front of Parker's path, completely oblivious to the murderer running down the street, heading right towards her.

_I swear, if Zach lost that tape, he'll be wishing for my power afterwards.._

"Look out!" I yelled to the oblivious blonde, increasing my speed by a minimal amount, as I was already at my peak.

She turned around, but couldn't move out of the way quick enough. Parker ran straight into her, and threw her roughly to the ground, smacking her arm loudly against the concrete. I heard her groan in pain, but I focused my attention on Parker. Smashing into the girl had slowed him down, and Morgan pounced while he could. He tackled Parker to the ground, putting the cuffs on him and grabbed him and roughly shoved him in the police car.

While Morgan was busy with Parker, I turned my attention to the injured blonde. I'm pretty sure she at least broke her arm, considering the amount of force was added to her arm.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" I asked her worriedly, looking over her for any other injuries. I noticed a rather large scrape on her arm from where she skidded on the sidewalk. Other than that, just some other bruises were there.

"I'm fine. Just a little banged up, but I'll be fine." She smiled up at me, but I detected a hint of nervousness in her voice. A small tremor made itself noticeable.

_I'll be fine when I get out of here. The quicker I get out, the better chance no one questions the miraculous healing…_

I'm used to hearing thoughts, after all these years of adapting to mind reading. But, to hear a thought like that, still gets your blood pumping. To find someone who has the same problems as you, to feel the same, is like finding a long lost love.

I looked down at her arm, which she was trying to hide, just in time to see the scrape completely gone. There was absolutely no trace of a scrape, or any of the bruises on her body. My heart was pumping loudly, and I had just enough to retain myself.

"I think we need to talk," I told her quietly, guiding her to a curb to sit on, excited to see if I finally found someone who is like me.

_Claire's POV _

_I swear, if Zach lost that tape, he'll be wishing for my power afterwards.._

I rolled my eyes at my best friend's stupidity some times. It's not like it's a tape of a cartoon or something. That has me _dying _on it. I jumped off a gravel plant and I _lived! _With no injuries, to add. He says he only misplaced it, but I have a feeling it's gone for good.

"Look out!" Someone shouted behind me, prompting me to turn around and see the problem.

Apparently I didn't turn around quick enough, because a guy, about mid thirties, bowled right into me, effectively knocking me to the ground.

I heard a small crack as I hit the ground, and couldn't help let out the groan of pain that was in my throat. I knew my arm would heal in no time, but the pain was still as bad as if it didn't heal.

I saw the man who had ran into me, get tackled to the ground by a tall, muscular, dark man, wearing a dark blue vest. I vaguely heard the term 'FBI', but I had other matters on my mind.

I wanted to get up and run out of here as soon as possible, and go on like nothing happened. But, unfortunately, there were other agents and police officers here who wanted to make sure I was fine. I'm pretty sure everyone heard my arm crack, but maybe I could make a getaway. I did it in when I saved the guy in the fire, and I'm pretty sure I could do it now.

However, I heard another agent come up next to me, sending my plan to the fires.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" He asked, and I turned my head to his direction. He had moppy brown hair that hung down close to his shoulders, and brown eyes that seemed to resemble dark caramel. He was taller than the other agent, but was much skinner than him. He looked concerned, looking over my body for any injuries.

I was aware of the scrape on my arm and the many bruises littering my body, but if I could just hide them long enough to heal, they wouldn't have to check anything. I guided my broken and scraped arm to behind my back, and smiled up at the agent.

"I'm fine," I replied back, giving him a small smile. "Just a little banged up, but I'll be fine." I inwardly swore to myself for the tremor in my voice. Just what I need, a way for them to find out I'm lying.

_I'll be fine when I get out of here. The quicker I get out, the better chance no one questions the miraculous healing…_

He looked down at my arm, but he didn't look as much concerned as excited. I was beyond confused at why he might be excited, but the panic took over, when I felt the pain in my arm suddenly disappear.

Apparently, the FBI agent at seen that as well.

"I think we need to talk," He said, his voice low. He held out his hand and helped me up, leading me to a curb away from the ambulances and cops.

We both were silent for a couple of moments, before he spoke.

"I know about your power," He said, his eyes downcast. I started to protest, but he kept speaking.

"And before you protest, " He glanced over at me, somehow reading my mind. "You can know that you're secret is safe with me."

I felt a tiny bit of relief inside me, but I wasn't so quick to completely trust him yet. High school tends to teach you traits like that.

"Why should I trust you?" I asked, suspicion in my voice. Along with suspicion, I was also panicked inside. How would I explain this to dad? I'd have to tell him about my power, and that could lead to some problems. He'd probably ship me off to a lab and make me a science project, or tell mom and ruin our entire family.

He fiddled with his watch and stared at the ground, but when he finally spoke again, he looked directly into my eyes. I was surprised to see the amount of happiness and trust in his dark brown eyes.

"If I tell your secret, I'd have to tell my secret as well."

I knew I was I was probably gaping like a fish, but I couldn't worry too much about my facial expression. He had a power too? I haven't ever met anyone who was like me, or possessed a power as well. Well, I might have known somebody who had a power, but I didn't even know it. I just figured my own power out a couple of weeks ago.

But to meet somebody who knew of my power, and I knew of his? That was new to me. I felt a small wave of excitement come over me at the thought of another person to talk to about issues and exploring our powers together. Testing the limits, I should say.

_But I wonder what his power even is?_

He chuckled, bringing my attention back to the conversation. "I'm a mind reader," He said casually, glancing down at his watch again, seeming to look at the details of it in a critical way.

"Hmm…" I hummed, tilting my head up to look at the sky, watching the black outlines of birds flying across through the clouds. So, he was a mind reader. That could prove tricky, considering he could hear every thought I had. Probably could hear me right now. But, if I'm being honest with myself, I want somebody who could relate with me. Somebody who isn't normal. I mean, Zach is great and all, but he isn't like me, _us. _He doesn't know what it's like to explore you're powers, or wonder if there's another person out there who's like you.

"I want that too," He murmured, also looking at the sky, his eyes tracing over the vast canvas. "Somebody I could talk to about my powers, or anything that's bugging me. It feels nice to find somebody who could relate to me," He looked over at me and smile, showing his pearly white teeth. "Somebody who's different."

I smiled back, feeling something inside me tingle. "I can't talk to anyone here about anything like that. I mean, the only person I've met so far, that I know if, that has a power, is you."

He looked back up to the sky, squinting at the brutal Texas sun that was bearing down on us. "You're the first person I've met as well. But," He paused glancing over at me. "We may have to talk by electronic devices, considering where we live."

I frowned, looking at him, my gaze questioning.

"I live in Quantico, Virginia," He clarified, answering my unspoken question. "You live here in Odessa. The only way we could actually talk would be by electrical devices. Although, I suppose we could visit periodically. Well, I guess I'm rushing into things, considering we just met and I don't even know your name. I can see how you would want to get to know me first and make sure you feel-"

I cut him off, holding my hand out to him. "My name's Claire Bennet. And you are?"

He looked up at me, bewildered. But, slowly, a smile spread across his face, and he slowly returned my handshake, gripping firmly. "Dr. Spencer Reid. It's a pleasure to meet you Claire."

"The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Reid."

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_6 months later _

_Claire's POV_

"Will this be all ma'am?" The elderly cashier asked me, his kind face smiling at me.

I gave him a smile back. "Yes, thank you."

He handed me my gum and my change, and I walked back over to waiting area right beside the gate Spencer's flight was supposed to be coming in to. It was the first time we would be seeing each other in actual person since our first encounter here in Texas. But, we had plenty of contact via cell phones, webcams, and emails. Even with all of our contact, I'm still excited to see him in person and actually explore our powers _together. _

"Excuse me, miss. Could you direct me to the exit?" A voice sounded behind me, and I recognized the voice immediately. I turned around, a large grin on my face already.

"Spencer!" I yelled happily, jumping up to maul him into a hug. He didn't stiffen like he did when we first met, but instead returned my hug, wrapping his arms around me warmly. But, he suddenly pulled back, an evil grin on his face.

"You better be ready to explore your powers in the most wildest ways, Ms. Bennet."

I smirked and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the exit.

"Bring it on, Dr. Reid."

**So? How was it? I hope it was good, not too out of character. But, I hope you guys know, there is no World Statistics Book. Just thought I would point that out. It's nothing but a figment of my imagination **


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